


Dancing for Strangers

by Peruvian Gypsy (Cat_Moon)



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 14:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19320046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Peruvian%20Gypsy
Summary: When Jim goes undercover to help out a short-handed Vice Squad, it turns into an eye opener for both Jim and his guide.





	Dancing for Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> An old story I'm posting here for the first time. First published in the zine, "Beefstick and Lampchop."

Some days you just couldn't seem to be anywhere on time no matter how hard you tried, and Blair believed casual acceptance of the situation was the logical way to go. He'd gotten held up at campus when a student came to him with a problem after class. He'd called to let Jim know though, so he wasn't worried when he came bouncing into Simon's office twenty minutes late. The usual 'new case excitement' was running through him, making him anxious to hear all about it.

"What'd I miss?" he asked, grabbing a seat and ignoring the stern look Simon gave him for not knocking first.

"Nothing--" Jim said, a little too quickly. Blair shot him a questioning glance. "Looks like I'm not gonna need you on this one, Chief, it'll give you a chance to get those tests graded..."

"How do you know?" he demanded amiably. "What's the case?"

Jim looked to Simon as if for help. None was forthcoming. "Vice needs a little assistance on something, all their officers are either known or tied up with other things. I used to work Vice, so I'm familiar with the set up."

"What's the case?" Blair repeated.

Jim briefly glanced away. "They got a tip that there's some heavy-duty drug dealing going on at a local club. All I have to do is pose as an employee and see if I get a bite."

"What club?" Having to pry details out of Jim this way meant there was something he didn't want to reveal. Blair's curiosity was doing overtime.

"The uh, Purple Parrot."

Blair's eyebrows raised at the name of the club. It was a popular nightspot with the underground crowd, catering to all sorts -- including all sexual orientations, with an emphasis on gay and transvestite. Their entertainment was legendary, and exotic in flavor. He briefly wondered if Jim knew, then dismissed it. Jim knew. That's what his discomfort was all about. Could be interesting. "Wow. So you're posing as, what, a bouncer? Bartender?"

Jim coughed, mumbling something.

Blair leaned forward. "What was that?"

Jim looked at Simon again.

"Jim's gonna pose as one of the dancers," he supplied helpfully, earning a scowl from the detective.

At first Blair thought Banks was pulling his leg. However, Jim's reaction confirmed it. "You're kidding?! One of the Parrot Dancers? No way, man!"

"Is there a particular reason you find this so amusing?" Jim asked, voice tight with annoyance.

"We've been through this before man, it's nothing personal, hell, some of my best friends are cops -- but you _reek_ Cop. No way you're gonna pull this off unless...well, I suppose with my help you might--"

"Forget it," his tone brooked no debate. "I don't need any help from you. This is just a simple gig, one, two nights tops."

"Jim's done this kind of undercover op before successfully," Simon put in, "I don't think we need to worry about that, Sandburg."

Jim gave Simon one last glare. "Thanks, Sir."

"You've done this before? Really?" To say he was surprised was too mild.

"Look, we don't need to be making a big deal out of this. I'll spend a few hours at the club nailing these guys, you'll finish grading your papers..."

"No _way_ I'm gonna miss _this_."

"I appreciate the support," Jim began sarcastically, "but I'm solo on this one. No argument."

This time it was Blair who looked to Simon.

The Captain shook his head, a hidden smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's Jim's call, kid."

Blair tried his best puppy eyes on his partner, but knew this particular battle was already lost. All the persuasion in the world wouldn't budge Ellison this time.

"Forget it."

 

* * *

 

The club was dark and smoky, loud, the driving beat reverberating through everything and everyone who entered. The atmosphere was so heavy with pheromones that even a non-sentinel could almost detect them. Here the hungry met, the voyeurs paid to be taunted with empty promises, from strangers who weren't faceless, but might as well have been.

Blair slowly made his way through the crowd, towards a spot where he'd have a good, but hidden, view of the stage. He wasn't sure just what he was in store for, a good laugh maybe. Ammunition for some friendly blackmail. It was nearly impossible to imagine the man, _this_ man, pulling something like this off. Which made it impossible to resist. Finally, someone in front of him left for the rest room, opening up a clear path straight through...

Blair's mouth dropped open, nearly hitting his knees. Jim was up on the stage, wearing a sexy version of army fatigues that hugged his body like a second skin and showed off all his bulges. Obviously working with what he had, using the military look as his gimmick. And it was driving the crowd wild. Must be true what they said about guys in uniform...

With a single flick of the wrist the clothing dropped off, revealing nothing underneath except a tight pair of jungle-striped bikini briefs that left almost nothing to the imagination. The only other thing he wore now was a single, small gold hoop through his ear. It glittered when the light hit it. The sweat of exertion was glistening on his skin, being turned blue and red and yellow by the spotlights. His grin was predatory, sexy as hell, as he taunted the audience, including Blair, with his sexuality. Flaunting himself shamelessly -- the man who usually had to be coached into making a date! Asking, commanding his audience to get hot for him. Showing them what it would be like. Each ripple of muscle promising unimagined ecstasy. This was... This was too much.

This was a whole new side of Jim that left Blair stunned nearly into numbness. Blair had _never_ seen him move like this -- never imagined it was possible... but thinking back, despite his size Jim had always been graceful and cat-like, never tripping over his long legs like many other men his size did. Just like...

Unbidden, old memories came back to him full force, as if it was yesterday. _Thane_. Blair hadn't thought about him for years. He was the son of a friend of Naomi's that he'd known when they'd lived in San Francisco. Blair was just fifteen, impressionable and eager to experiment in the wondrous, open world he'd been taught to explore. Thane was older, nineteen when they'd met, although he'd seemed somehow so much more vulnerable than Blair despite his age and bigger build. He was a dancer, or so he proclaimed. Blair would sit and watch him practice for hours, entranced by the consummate grace such a big body could display. He followed him around everywhere, deeply smitten.

The scents and sounds of his first love-making washed over him again, the two of them huddled together on the roof of the apartment building where they'd lived, under a crudely arranged tarp during an exhilarating rain storm. With their mothers thinking they were at the movies, although they wouldn't have flipped out if they'd known the truth. The two of them had burst through his door afterwards, drenched and laughing, high on life. It had been a great movie, they'd assured their moms. Most teens' first experiences with sex where just awkward groping, but this was different. Thane had taken him by the hand, and shown him what it was really all about. For that, he'd always be grateful, no matter how it had ended.

He remembered sneaking into the underground club that Thane had gotten a job in, watching him perform live, seeing the same desire in the faces that watched him on stage as he was now seeing on those watching Jim.

Not Jim.

That had been the beginning of the end of Blair's crush. Somehow, the public staring, ogling, had made Thane's dancing less magical. Less private. Dirty. These people couldn't see into the good, gentle soul of the man giving his all for them. Didn't care about the passion that sang in his blood, the desires and fears and strength of the man. All they'd cared about was the body. Any body would've done. It was just sex, desire without pure emotion. He'd tried to convince Thane to stop dancing for strangers after that, explaining with the naiveté of youth that his performance was special and should only be viewed by those who would understand, appreciate the whole package, not just the outer layer. Thane had laughed and kissed him, and the subject had never been brought up again. Soon after, he and Naomi had moved away, and lost touch with them.

But that wasn't Jim.

Jim was just on a case, doing a job. One that would be over soon. It wasn't the same.

Eventually, as Blair got older, he understood more about the lonely soul of Thane, why dancing for strangers was so important to him. Knew about the empty part of him nothing but the adulation of crowds could fill. And had forgiven, and felt sad for the boy inside the man's body. Maybe fell in love with him a little bit all over again.

By then it was too late. Not without a great deal of trepidation he'd tried looking Thane up, only to discover he'd died of an overdose two years earlier. Blair hadn't really been surprised, just saddened. The life he'd lived, things Naomi had taught him had enriched his life beyond measure, given him strength and faith in the universe. Made him a better person. But for some people, it wasn't enough. They needed structure, order. Control. Freedom wasn't for everyone.

Blair watched Jim. He continued staring, praying his friend wouldn't notice him, just as he had Thane that night. Jim liked order, needed control. He knew his presence in the cop's life was a point of disruption for him. Yet he tolerated it. Even seemed to enjoy it sometimes. Why? Did Jim possess some secrets unknown to Blair, being unlocked up on that stage tonight? This was an exotic world even to him, the thought of Jim here was bizarre. Yet there he was, making it happen. Changing reality. Blair shook his head at the weird thoughts, trying to banish them. The only other thing to focus on was the dancer.

Blair focused on Jim until nothing else existed, watching him move along the stage, openly observing him in a way he never had before. The world narrowed down until it was almost as if they were the only two people in it, and Jim was dancing only for him. The way Thane had, once upon a time. Jim's eyes were bright, as deep and compelling as quicksand, seeking to claim whatever piece of soul the body had missed. As if he was looking directly at Blair. The faces of the others didn't matter, because they weren't real. The only thing that mattered was the two of them. Together. Alone together in a roomful of strangers. The promise was for him. The desire for him alone.

A freight train of implications doing ninety came around a hidden bend and hit him full force in the groin, whistle shrieking a warning inside his head. Panic blossomed until it exploded, until he was afraid he'd scream out loud.

Blair turned and bolted out of the club.

 

* * *

 

Jim Ellison had a pounding headache. He leaned back on the couch with his eyes closed, cold washcloth over his forehead. Maybe, if he lay really still, it wouldn't be so bad. He was leery of taking any painkillers since he never knew what effect they'd have on his screwy senses. That 'dial' Sandburg had taught him about didn't seem to be working very well either, he suspected it was because he was just too tired. He'd never realized how hard these dancers worked. Every bone in his body ached from exertion, despite the fact that he worked out at the gym four nights a week. Not to mention the fatigue brought on by the stress of being ogled by sex-starved men and women, treated like a piece of meat. It was embarrassing beyond measure. He couldn't imagine how anyone got any enjoyment out of it. Not this kind of dancing, at any rate. He knew the attraction though, the lure of the darker side, and the money of course. He'd seen plenty of worse things during his time in Vice squad.

The loft was blessedly quiet, a balm on his nerves after the noise of the club. He'd had to fight hard to keep his senses turned down, concentrate on that as well as the performance. Exert his mind as well as his body, at the same time. It had been an experience. If he dared mention a word about it, his Guide would want to study this aspect ad nauseum.

Speaking of Blair, Jim wondered where he'd gone to. He wasn't at all surprised to find him at the club, he'd known this was one of those times Blair wasn't going to listen. But then he'd suddenly torn out of there like the hounds of hell were after him. At first Jim thought it was because Blair realized he'd been discovered. Now he wasn't so sure.

His mind replayed the scene at the club. In the confusion, it was hard to figure out which sense had alerted him to his guide's presence first. Smell, sound, sight, he was so familiar with them all by now that it took little more than a subliminal cue. He'd sensed Blair's presence there shortly after he'd entered. The look on his face was priceless, Jim grinned at the remembrance. Okay, so he'd gotten a little more exhibitionistic then, wanting to see how shocked it could get his friend.

It had gotten...strange after that. It became easier to entertain the crowd, almost enjoyable to see how far he could go. It was as if Blair was guiding him in this too, helping him focus and block out the extraneous sights and sounds and smells that were bombarding him. Soon, nothing existed but the two of them. His senses were full of Blair and nothing else. When Blair abruptly turned and ran, it was like some sort of connection between them was roughly severed, causing him to actually stumble and miss a step. Any worry or speculation was forgotten in the immediate struggle to get back into the flow of his routine before he blew his cover.

Trying to use the relaxation techniques Sandburg was always nagging him to practice, Jim replayed the scene in his mind again for answers. He saw Blair, watching him in shock. For a few moments he'd gotten a far away look, as if his mind was somewhere else. Then they'd made eye contact, and everything else had seemed to slip away, for both of them. Blair's eyes were wide, staring at him as if mesmerized. Then...what? He reached inside his mind, just a little farther... The heartbeat, heard it speed up. Felt the flush of sweaty skin almost as keenly as if he had been touching it. The smell of...arousal. And right before those blue eyes reflected panic, the unmistakable smoky glaze of desire had briefly reached out to him.

And connected with same.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, Blair stopped shaking.

The cool night air had helped clear his head as he hurried away from the place of his destruction. When he finally stopped running, he sat huddled against a wall for what seemed like hours, hugging his legs to his chest. This was a major anxiety attack like he hadn't had in a long time. He'd always been in control of his chaos before, the natural state that was his life. This time he felt his hold slipping precariously. He'd unknowingly let someone else tip the balance. It wasn't fair really, he hadn't done it on purpose. Didn't even know how it had happened.

Now he had no idea what the hell he was going to do.

There was no way to hide a secret like this from Jim, eventually he'd find out. Hell, Blair couldn't even take a piss without Jim knowing about it. Realistically, he could know even if Blair was in the bathroom with the door closed and Jim was outside in the truck. With the motor running. And the radio on. Most of the time it didn't bother him, he didn't think about it. Jim wasn't the type of guy to invade someone's privacy...unless he had a very good reason. Like you were acting strange or upset.

But how would Jim's senses tell him _this_? A tell-tale speed up of respiration as Blair tried to silently jerk off? Averted eyes and blush as Jim casually walked out of the shower with only a towel around his waist? All of this and more could be explained away by a liar as adept as Blair if necessary. He had no idea what would actually happen, or how he'd react to these new feelings. Moreover, he couldn't even begin to guess what Jim's reaction would be to the feelings that had blossomed in his trusted guide. It was the unknown possibilities that were scaring him.

He took a deep breath and finally remembered how to relax himself, falling into an easy mantra to calm his jangled nerves. When he was done he looked around the roof, smiling to himself. It was funny, really, he'd never thought about this place having a roof. But of course all buildings had one, even theirs. It had just never occurred to him to explore it. The view was breathtaking, he had a feeling this was going to be a great place to get away and think. Quiet. Private. However, thinking about possibilities that hadn't happened yet was a waste of time, and the reality was usually no where near as horrible as the things the imagination made up.

His resolve to just play things by ear -- as he'd always done -- made up, he felt more at peace. Everything was under control again. He climbed to his feet and left the roof.

There was a bounce in his step once again, and anyone looking at the guileless face and clear eyes, would have no idea of the inner torment that had plagued his soul such a short time ago.

 

* * *

 

Jim was still in the same spot when Blair walked in a short time later. He remained there with the cloth over his eyes, cataloging his roommate's actions with his other senses. Keys dropped into the basket with a jangle, then the soft rustle of cloth as Blair took off his coat and hung it up. His heartbeat and breathing were normal.

"Hey man," Blair said quietly, "Everything okay?"

Jim removed the cloth as he sat up and looked at him, gaze lingering briefly. Nothing showing in the eyes except mild concern, he looked just like he always did. "Just recovering. Where were you?" Only fair to give him a chance to confess, as Jim himself needed some time to sort out his feelings. He hadn't gotten very far during his solitude. Would having Blair there make it easier, clearer?

"I went to a movie," Blair answered with a ghost of a smile. It was an enigmatic one, hinting at meanings Jim couldn't begin to comprehend.

"Was it good?" Jim marveled at the inane conversation they were having. How could everything be so _normal_ , after what had happened between them? He could almost believe he'd imagined the whole thing...if he hadn't discovered how accurate and acute his senses really were.

"An eye opener," Blair answered with a real smile.

"I bet it was," he grumbled, giving Blair just enough of a clue in his face to tip his hand.

There! The smile had faltered, for just a millisecond.

If he asked what the movie was about, Blair would improvise, instantly providing him with a detailed account of the plot, complete with enthusiasm and critique. Even though they both knew it wasn't true. Sometimes it was scary, how adept the kid was at lying. Most of the time, he'd pass a liar detector test. It was a natural talent.

And what of this _thing_ between them? If he spoke of it out loud, would Blair deny that as well? Jim wasn't sure whether he'd be wounded or relieved. A traitorous part of him insisted on being the voice of reason. If they ignored it, it wouldn't just go away. Things were never that simple. It would be there, between them, affecting how they related to each other and getting in the way. On the other hand, what good would talking do? Maybe it was just a momentary aberration, a condition brought on by the atmosphere. Better left alone.

Suddenly he was reminded of just how exhausted he still was. He rubbed at his eyes. "I know you were there, Chief. I'm a Sentinel, remember?"

Blair took a moment before answering, as if assessing the situation and Jim's mood. He could read Sandburg pretty well too -- it was just the other, oblique part he couldn't that worried him.

"C'mon man, don't be pissed. You didn't really expect me not to take a peek..." he said in a jovial, bullshitting tone. Then he seemed to find it necessary to explain further. "I was just curious. I mean...uh -- okay, I promise I won't tease you about it, okay?"

 _Blair wants me,_ Jim thought, a sense of wonder filling him. Okay, maybe it should've been a foregone conclusion after the interlude at the club. But he'd been busy plotting denials, and just realized they'd focused on himself, his excuses. Blair didn't have any. Unless...

"Hey Chief, how far does this Sentinel-Guide stuff go?" he asked, his voice neutral.

"Huh?" the voice rose a bit on the end of the word. It obviously wasn't a question Blair had been expecting. He still stood, hovered by the chair. Another outward clue of things he wasn't showing.

"They relied on each other in the jungle for survival, right? Is it possible that there could be some kind of... I don't know, some kind of _connection_ between them?" Jim leaned back again and sighed inwardly. There, it was out. If his partner had felt it too, he'd know exactly what Jim was talking about. On the small chance it was some sort of hallucination induced by overloaded senses -- no harm, no foul. Now the ball was in Blair's court, and he felt tons lighter without it. Let someone else make the decision...

After a period of time where he was presumably formulating his response, Blair ventured a little closer, actually perching on the edge of the chair next to the couch. "What kind of connection?" he said quietly.

All that time, just to throw it back to him again?! "You tell me, you're the anthropologist," he snapped, instantly regretting it. He rubbed at his eyes again. "I'm tired, Chief." Lots of meaning, there. He relaxed as he saw the decision on Sandburg's face.

Blair laced his fingers together, and began to speak, still in a quiet tone. "Jim, I need to know exactly what you experienced. If you...really felt it too?" He looked up and their eyes met.

Endless seconds later, Jim realized he'd discovered a whole new way of zoning out. The feelings were back, coursing through his blood. And no excuse, this time. Just a silent apartment. Then something shattered, and he could breathe again. The world was back to normal.

"You been holding out on me, Chief?" he found himself asking, smiling slightly. Yet another question that held more than one meaning. Holding several conversations at once and trying to keep track of them all was threatening to bring back the headache.

Raised eyebrows, impish grin. Familiar and dear. " _Me_?! What about you? I've never seen you like that before, man, cutting loose. Talk about exhibitionism!"

"That was for you." Such slow, sure words, spoken in a voice that didn't sound like his.

Jim took an odd perverse pleasure in the speed with which the grin vanished from Sandburg's face. He seemed about to say something, it was aborted.

"You, tongue-tied? I guess this really is a night for surprises."

"I wasn't expecting...this." A hand waved vaguely. "I didn't prepare for this." Unusual honesty there.

"What were you expecting?" Jim asked.

"I didn't know you saw me. That you felt it too," the last was almost whispered.

Finally the cards were face up. Now what? He hadn't thought that far ahead, and obviously Blair hadn't even thought _this_ far.

"Wow," Blair breathed.

"With techno-talk like that, your dissertation's in the bag."

Unexpectedly Blair met his eyes firmly, hard. "You're waiting for me to provide you with a nice, safe explanation for what you felt? Tell you some scientific theory about Sentinels and Guides to put your mind at ease. Sorry, all out." He turned away to inspect a book left lying on the coffee table.

"How about what to do about it?"

"You want to control it, like your senses. Maybe it doesn't work that way. Do what you want, Jim," now Blair sounded like the weary one.

"Are you saying I'm a control freak?" Jim bristled at the implied dig, even while a part of him recognized the greater truth there. Hadn't he only a short time ago felt himself tired of the fight, wanting to hand the responsibility over to someone else? _To Blair._

Blair just shook his head without answering, without looking at him. He looked insufferably unruffled, as if he could shake all this off at a moment's notice and calmly start discussing anthropological theory. It infuriated Jim suddenly and totally. How dare he criticize? Everything came so easily to Sandburg, so blessed effortlessly. What did he know of the internal battles Jim fought to keep that control? The cost? Or the price of losing it?

Now that was an intriguing concept. Maybe Blair should get a taste of just what it meant.

The mere thought of finally being able to relax the vigil, give in and stop fighting was too alluring. He was sick of the cat and mouse game and ready to pounce. To hell with the consequences. For once in his life, he wanted to let go. Give it up. Let it in. A feeling of liberation overcame him, obliterating common sense, tearing down every ingrained barrier in its path. Every last damned barrier between himself and Blair.

He pounced.

 

* * *

 

Once minute Blair was trying to remember his mantra and contemplating the odds on whether Jim would turn and run scared, the next he was in Jim's arms...and he wasn't quite sure what had happened in between.

All his carefully calming meditation flew out the window at the desperate, almost bruising touch, his control shattering again, this time he knew it would be irrevocably. Blair's knees turned to Jello as Jim's hot mouth branded his neck. This was only the second man who'd ever held him in passion. This time he was an adult, and it was worse than imaginable. This was Jim, so much different from Thane. So imposing and overwhelming. Thane could only take what Blair was willing to give; Jim, Jim could have everything with but a feeble struggle.

Dangerous. So forbidden and dangerous. And that made him want it even more. This was so unlike him, giving into passion of a kind he never knew resided in himself. Buried so deep than no one had ever released it before...until this one unique man.

Jim was going to leave a mark on his neck, he knew, wondered if it was intentional or just instinctual. That mouth was now working its way up, too close to his lips. He made that token struggle, shifting in Jim's embrace while the man's hands continued to roam over him.

"Jim, I...I don't know...if I'm...ready for this..." he was slightly amazed at how breathless he already was. "It's...too much, too soon." Maybe brutal honesty would win him some leniency.

Jim pulled back just enough to make eye contact, and he almost didn't recognize the eyes burning into his own. Or the raw voice speaking to him. "Oh poor Blair. You think you're the only one who knows what it's like to lose control? To love someone so much you think you'll go insane with it?"

 _Love_... Blair's stomach gave a powerful lurch. How could something this intense have been bottled up inside them without a hint before this? Maybe the signs _had_ been there all the long, he was just too wrapped in denial to see them. Like a dam pushed past the limit, unleashed emotions were pouring out, drenching both of them in waves that knocked them off their feet.

The world tilted, and he was no longer vertical. Jim's body covered his, pressing into his, as shaking hands pulled at his clothing. He was on fire, now a full participant in equal frenzy. Every nerve ending where Jim touched him exploded. He didn't care if it destroyed him, he had to have it. Nothing, not even a nuclear blast, could prevent them from coming together, finishing the final ritual of bonding. He arched up against the swaying body, a satisfied smile curling his lips at the guttural groan the brazen move elicited. His hands groped behind, pulling at Jim, pressing him closer.

This was a world where logic didn't exist, common sense dared not tread, thought was impossible. Only pure animal needs burned though him, not only of flesh, but of soul. The soul, just another animal, desperate to feed a craving that would otherwise eat it from the inside out.

"Oh god, ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod..." it was his new mantra, panted out religiously as they rocked together. He closed his eyes tight enough to cause flashes of light behind the lids, fists clenching as tightly as possible over the hard muscle under them.

His clothes hadn't even made it all the way off in their haste, the jeans and underwear pooled at his ankles, providing a resistance that drove him crazy when he tried to spread his legs father apart. Jim was in his pants, literally, long legs tangled inside in his desire for more contact. Weight pressed Blair into the unforgiving hardwood floor, with neither one of them caring. They were going to kill each other, or die trying.

A hysterical giggle rose up through his diaphragm, bubbling outward only to be stifled by a moan as one of Jim's hands grabbed his balls, roamed behind to cup his ass cheek possessively. The desire that gripped him at the touch was more intense than what had gone before, and he knew what he wanted. All of it, totally. In that final act he knew he would belong to Jim, but as terrifying as that was, knowing Jim would then also belong to him overrode any internal objections. It was as old as time, this feeling inside, and he moved on automatic, instinct rather than thought guiding him.

Somehow he managed to reverse his position so that he was on his side with his back to Jim. He brought his knees up, and Jim automatically spooned himself around his back, hard length of cock pressing against Blair's cheeks.

He pushed back encouragingly. Jim grabbed his hips, his breath hot against Blair's neck, coming in deep gasps. He wanted it, badly, Blair could tell by the almost convulsive way his hands were pulling his hips back. As badly as Blair did.

"Do it," he rasped.

He felt his cheeks being parted, surprisingly gently considering Jim's senseless state. With a shudder, he realized how deeply he trusted Jim.  To look out for him.  To protect him.  As he waited, breathlessly poised between worlds, one coherent thought made it through to the front lines: _is this gonna hurt?_

He felt the pulsing organ press against his opening, nowhere near as painful as his throbbing erection was becoming. Slick, with spit he assumed, it pushed further, past the tight ring of muscle. He breathed a sigh of relief at the first obstacle overcome. Then, he heard a sound from Jim that defied description, and without warning he was completely filled. He screamed, the mindless agony for release bringing tears to his eyes.

His started his ohgod mantra again, his breath pounded out of him on each thrust with just enough time to catch it again before the next incoming jolt to his nervous system. One of Jim's hands was gripping his shoulder as if holding him there, the other around his waist, keeping them balanced. Teeth nipped at the back of his neck. For one eerie moment they weren't men but two cats in the jungle, wild and free of the bonds humans carry around. He could almost hear the bird calls, smell the moss clinging to the trees around them as they mated with a primal need neither could deny. He felt what the Sentinel must have, when he was one with the jungle and nature.

The rocking increased, as did Jim's groans. His body shuddered, and the response echoed through Blair until he wasn't sure which one of them it had started from. Like that moment in the club...

Overload. Without warning, ripping through him. Tripped by Jim's cry of release, the feel of his essence flowing into Blair. Mere men once again, they rode the crescendo together, then rested at the bottom.

 

* * *

 

Blair sat cross-legged in the middle of the big bed, blanket wrapped around him, and told Jim the story of Thane. He said he'd felt it was important for his lover to know, so his lover listened. While he talked, Jim's hand frequently strayed upward to play in his long curls. They were so calm, so tender compared to the feral storm that had ravaged them a short time ago, downstairs. Blair's voice held a quiet peace Jim didn't remember hearing there before. It was almost hypnotic, listening to him talk. He wondered again at the bond between Sentinels and Guides, surely responding so deeply to his Guide's voice had been an asset in getting him to relax, helping him learn to control his senses.

He hadn't controlled his body earlier though. On the other hand, nor did he zone out. In fact, it was as close to perfection as he'd ever gotten, the way they seemed to be in synch, moving together almost as one. For once his senses had worked together, and with perfect timing. Without even trying. He had been shown, very vividly, that his Guide's _voice_ wasn't the only thing he responded to instinctually.

Jim had experienced a few awkward "mornings-after" in his time, some strange post-coital moments. But this one had to be the weirdest. It felt as if some demon had taken control of him, and then unceremoniously dumped him after he'd had his way with him. He felt _normal_ again, and very inadequate. He'd lain there against Blair's back, not knowing what to say, suddenly unsure of everything.

Then Blair had stretched like a big cat and rolled over, pinning him with eyes that were no longer hard to read. Looking into those eyes had taken every thought from his head, left him without speech -- or need of it. Silent, they'd untangled themselves from the mess and gone upstairs hand in hand.

He'd woken up from his "cat-nap" to find Blair watching him. Saying there was something he wanted to tell him. And so, here they were. And Jim was suddenly aware that Blair had stopped speaking.

"I didn't hurt you...before, did I?" he asked, almost casually, rubbing his hand down Blair's back.

Blair gave him a bemused look and negative shake of his head, curls bouncing at the movement. "Did you hear a word I said?"

"You were in love with a dancer who'd rather dance for strangers than you."

"Yeah, I...guess that's the gist of it," Blair murmured, seemingly surprised by Jim's summary of the story.

Jim stood and took Blair's hand, coaxing him out of bed. "The only one I want to dance for, or with, is you. So dance with me."

"We don't have music." Token protest as he rose to join his partner.

"We don't _need_ music."

 

* * *

 

Blair had looked up at Jim, amazed that his partner had cut right to the heart of the matter, his feelings about Thane, an angle that even he'd never considered. And he'd only been half listening! The other half had been preoccupied with his new lover, and that was fine with Blair.

A tug on his hand had refocused his own attention, and he found Jim standing beside the bed. "The only one I want to dance for, or with, is you. So dance with me." Jim's sweetly engaging voice and smile seemed to light up the dark room. Impossible to resist, and he'd melted with love for this man.

He'd said something about not having music, which didn't phase Jim. Then he was in his arms, swaying slightly to their own special rhythm. There was flash of light, followed by the sound of distant thunder. He noticed the patter of rain on the roof, and smiled.

"Hey, Jim, I know this really great dance floor..."

"You do?" Jim said skeptically.

"One flight up. Private, romantic..."

"Wet," there was laughter in Jim's voice.

"Sexy..."

"I thought the roof was your private sanctuary?"

"I won't be needing that anymore," he said quietly. "Come dance with me, Jim."

"Lead on, mi guía"

An invitation countered, answered. Blair made the journey to the roof, Jim beside him, feeling a sense of contentment and belonging that he'd never felt in his life before, not even when he'd sold Jim on his necessary place in the Sentinel's life. The Guide was finally home.

 

 

The end

note: Mi Guia = my guide

2/14/97

 


End file.
